


A Horrible Idea WIP

by brodylover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Blade, Confession, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mind Control, Season gr8, Whump, sigil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodylover/pseuds/brodylover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has a horrible idea to save Cas from Naomi's control after Cas attacked him and Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn't a good idea. At all. It was a horrible idea in fact and Dean knew it. He just didn't know what else to do. This was it, this was the only thing that he could think of. Cas had just tried to kill him, kill all three of them, and Sam was in the hospital, a few broken ribs and a whole lot of blood loss. It wasn't Cas’s fault, Dean could tell that much, but the fact remained. He wasn't in control. He was trying to kill the men he had once saved.

It was the blood in his eye that had given Dean the idea. The stupid idea. When he had come at them, blade swinging and fists with his full strength behind them, he had been bleeding, just above the eye. It was just like before, when he had killed Samandriel. Dean had had to stab him, right through the arm with the angel blade Cas had given them, in order to slow him down. It seemed to work, grounded him for a moment and that was all he had needed. 

Dean had stabbed him again, in the gut, not a death blow but a pretty terrible one. The angel had fallen to the ground, curled in on himself, tried to keep in the pain and blood and grace. 

Now it was just the two of them, Dean pacing and hating himself for what he was about to do, Cas tied to a chair in a circle of holy oil, ready to be lit so that he’d be trapped inside. 

“Dean.” he moaned as he regained consciousness, “What… what happened?”

“You don’t remember?” Dean twirled the angel blade in his hand, “You just tried to kill me, and Sam, and you don't even remember? Well, that’s just perfect.”

“I… I did? Oh, I see. I. Remember. But it’s hazy. A dream. Is. Is Sam alright?”

“You threw him through a freaking wall! You almost broke his back, broke a bunch of ribs instead, caused internal bleeding. He’s in the hospital, Cas. The doctors aren't sure if he’s going to make it.”

“I’m so sorry. Please, you have to believe me Dean. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“But you did. I think I’m starting to get it.” he crossed the line of oil, knelt before Cas, looked at the dried blood on his face, “Someone is making you do this, controlling you. And I know where the signal is coming from.”

He pressed the angel blade to the spot where Cas had been bleeding from, a place with no wound or gash or even bruising. 

“What? Dean, please. I didn't mean to do this. Please. I don't want to die. Do you know what happens when angels die? Where we go?”

“I’m not going to kill you, Cas.”

“Then what? What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to jam the signal.”

Dean dragged the blade down and Cas hissed at the pain of it. He went up and then down in the opposite direction and then back up again. That’s when Cas figured it out and he started shaking. 

“Don’t do this, Dean, please. Don’t. You don't know what you’re doing!”

“You really haven't left me any choice.”

“Please.”

Dean finished the sigil and Cas was screaming, throwing his head back at the pain of it. The ropes holding him down broke, the chair broke, the lights broke, the window broke. Everything shattered in the wake of Castiel’s pain. Dean clamped his hands over his ears, feeling the blood falling from them. 

He had just carved a sigil designed to keep angels out onto an angel. Cas was trapped in a never-ending cycle of pain, trapped in his vessel and forced to leave at the same time. The pain must have been unbearable. What Dean was feeling was just a minuscule fraction of it. 

He clamped a hand down over Cas’s mouth but that hardly did anything, so instead he ripped off the angel’s tie and shoved it into his mouth, using his own belt to keep it in place. Cas was still screaming, but it was muted to an almost human volume around the gag. 

Dean pulled him up until he was in a sitting position, grabbing him and holding him close. He tried to soothe the angel, stroke his fingers through his hair, give him some relief, but it didn't seem to be working. 

“I’m going to save you, Cas.” Dean screamed into his ear, hoping he could hear it, “I’m going to find a way to stop this. I promise. I’ll kill whatever son of a bitch did this to you. Then I’ll remove the sigil, okay? I’ll stop you from hurting. You and me, we’ll go off somewhere, take a break, get away from this hunting and pain and crap, okay?” he was babbling now, but he couldn't stop. “Screw it, Sammy could come too if he wanted. We’ll just take a break from the world. I’ll introduce you to some vinyl records, we’ll drink whiskey and eat pancakes, sleep in and have pie for dinner. You’ll love it Cas. It’ll be a vacation. I’ll make it your home. I love you Cas, okay? I don't want you to ever think I don't.”

It was the first time he’d said it and when Cas went limp in his arms, the pain of the sigil finally too much, he almost hoped that the angel had heard it. Sure it was embarrassing, but it was something Dean had felt for years, had carefully tucked away. He thought maybe Cas needed to hear it. 

He was right.

This was a really stupid idea.


	2. An Idea that Turned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People asked for a sequel. I dont think this was what they were asking for.

It had taken a lot to get Cas into their new home. He was unconscious most of the time, the wound to his arm and his gut healing on their own, but he would randomly wake up and then he would scream that deafening scream and quake and thrash in his agony. Dean put him in his own bedroom, the memory foam contouring to his shivering, sweating frame, and Dean took the quiet moment to soundproof the room as best as possible and remove anything glass, light bulbs and the like. He couldn't look after Cas, Sam, and the house that was being destroyed by the angels pain. 

Dean passed the quiet moments by playing old records, his own as well as those that had been in the bunker before they had arrived. He patted Cas's hair, ran his fingers through it and tried to soothe him. He spoke to him, told him secrets, all of the thing he hoped that they could do together once this was all over. 

When Sam came back from the hospital he stopped, he finally left Cas alone, helped Sam in and down the stairs and to his bedroom, right across the hall from Dean's. Sam saw all of the food that Dean had made, the old cookbook he'd found still laid open and made fun of him for being so domestic. So what if Dean was domestic? He was worried and he enjoyed cooking, he surprised himself with how much he liked it. And he wanted there to be food ready, when Sam came home, when Cas was okay. He told Sam what he'd done and Sam practically pushed his own painkillers into Dean's arms, forcing him to give them to Cas. Sam rarely went to the hospital, he could handle this small amount of pain on his own. 

When Cas next woke up, Sam sitting on the bed beside him, they were ready, both of them wearing earplugs. Dean had finally removed the gags and Cas thrashed as he screamed, the bed rocking beneath him. Sam lay on top of him though, forced his body flat against the mattress and Dean tossed the pills down his throat, held his mouth closed until he swallowed them down. 

It was only a few moments before Cas had lost consciousness again. 

"How many did you give him?" Sam asked, staring up at him, removing the plugs.

"I didnt know what he'd need." Dean shrugged, "Whole bottle?"

"Well, if he survives he won't be hurting, at least."

The next time Cas woke up he was drooling and loopy, not able to make eye contact. he kept fading in and out of consciousness, but he wasn't screaming at least. Dean pulled him up into a sitting position, stroking his arm, mothering him a bit too much. Sam was all business though, snapping to keep Cas focused. 

"Who is it? Who's controlling you?" 

"Can't." Cas's mouth was too big for his mouth, "Remember. Blocked."

"Well, do you know anything about what's happening?"

"Sam. Andriel. He knew. He was. trying to tell me."

"Alfie? What did he say?"

"Naomi." and that was all. Cas slumped against Dean's shoulder, once again unconscious. 

They still had a bit of holy oil left over and they drew a large ring with it in the center of pantry. It had high ceilings and a large cement floor, perfect for this. They had all of the ingredients, knew how to summon an angel, now they had a name. 

They put the ingredients in the bowl and for a moment they could only remember Balthazar, summoning him this way. Sam was sitting in a backwards chair, exhausted for his own pain but that didn't matter, this had to be dealt with. 

Dean lit the match and dropped it int the bowl before turning seeing the woman in her pantsuit standing right behind him. He jumped at that. She was a lot closer than he'd expected. 

"You should be dead." she snarled.

"Naomi." Sam spoke, drawing her attention to himself. She spun on her heel, turning all of that anger and hatred at Sam instead. 

"And you! Well at least he did something to you! Seriously. I thought Castiel was a bit more loyal than that. I should have known that he'd rebel like this. Still, we all know the cliche."

But she had stepped over the line and Dean was done with it. He lit the holy oil and she was surrounded by flames in a second. She growled her disappointment as she turned to him. 

"Castiel!" she shouted, "Defend me!"

Dean just glared at her, "That's not going to work."

All of the anger leeched from her face, replaced with terror, "Oh God, you sealed him. You carved a sigil in him. Do you know what you've done? That's torture, plain and simple torture!"

"Why do you care? What you've done? It seems a lot worse."

"I needed him."

"So did we." 

"What are you going to do?" she stepped forward, getting as close to the flames as she could to look Dean over.

"I'm going to save him. What did you do?"

"Nothing that can be undone." she crossed her arms

"You saying he's stuck as your little puppet then?" 

"Unless you want to open up his skull and remove the sigil I carved into his vessels brain. But I doubt he'd survive that."

"So if I kill you, he'd be free."

"You could try, but there is a fail safe. I'm not a complete idiot Mr. Winchester. I know how the pair of you work."

her eyes turned white and began to glow, her grace right at the forefront. She raised her arms and smiled. The flames curved and swirled around her, as if she had her own wind generating from her feet.

"Eak, eros, carpo, tem." She exclaimed. 

The whole building shook and the humans were looking around, looking for whatever it was that she had done. Dean drew the angel blade that had been in his chest pocket, held it at the ready. What had she done?

"Cas?" Sam asked, turning and looking to the doorway. 

Cas was there, shuffling into the room, light glowing from him in so many places, not cuts or anything, more of bleeding out of his pours. He wasn't moving like usual though, he wasn't moving correctly at all. It was more like a limp, handmade doll that some little kid was pretending to walk around. His head was limp and unseeing and in his hand was his own angel blade. 

He slashed at Sam and, as the hunter wasn't ready for any kind of action, he rolled out of the way, the chair smashed seconds after. Cas wasn't in control, not at all. It was all Naomi. 

Cas kept going after Sam and Dean, well, he didn't know what to do. All he knew was that he had to save Sam and he had to save Cas. He turned from the fight, seeing Naomi stand in her mess of flames, hands still raised.

Dean buried the blade deep into her chest and she screamed falling to the ground as white exploded from her eyes and mouth, her wings scorched into the floor. 

She looked human, peaceful, and Dean hated himself once more. He couldn't help but wonder who she had been, the vessel, if she had known what she was getting into when she'd said yes.

But Sam was yelling for him. 

Cas was still attacking. Even with Naomi dead he was still trying to kill Sam. All Sam could do was duck and dodge and try to get out of the way. 

That was a really good fail safe.

Dean tried to push Cas off of Sam, to distract him, to get him back to how he should have been. He wasn't listening though, couldn't. He wasn't in control. Dean didn't have a choice. 

He pushed the angel blade into Cas's kidney. The angel dropped his own blade, eyes finally opening. He stared at Dean, fear and pain and despair all over his face. 

Dean pulled the blade out and the glowing vanished from Cas's flesh, just pouring out from the wound that Dean had caused. He fell to his knees. 

"Oh God." Cas's voice was barely over a whisper, "What have I done?"

And he collapsed to the cement floor, inches away from holy fire.


	3. A Decent Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all of these bad ideas, Dean has a seemingly good one.

Cas was asleep. It took days, more than a week, for him to finally wake up. He was groggy and limp and wouldn't speak, wouldn't even look at his wards as they watched over him. 

He was hungry though. Dean could tell. He perked up a bit when he brought in some burgers, home made and laden with all sorts of veggies. A full salad with hamburger. He knew Cas would want something healthier than a burger, but he liked making them. 

Cas ate four before turning away from him once more, not even thanking him, and dragged the blankets over himself.

It was Sam who eventually made him crack, made him spill why he was so quiet. He was ashamed of what he had done, he'd remembered all of it. Sam stroked his hair though, forgive him, told him that it didn't matter. It wasn't him, but Naomi who had attacked them. Dean apologized as well but Cas didn't seem to hear him.

He was a bit more talkative once he'd been forgiven, no longer hiding as much, but it was only to Sam that he spoke. Sam would crawl into Dean's bed, dwarfing Cas as he got comfortable around him, opening some thick volume on lore for them to read together. Cas was always done first and would wait patiently, his head on Sam's chest, for the hunter to finish.

He wouldn't talk to Dean, he wouldn't even look at him. Dean would sit in the room with them, watch them read, do some on his own, something a bit easier, but not less important, mechanics and engineering mostly. He thought to himself that he could be a mechanical engineer once this hunting stuff was over. If he survived it. He didn't push Cas.

But one day, when Sam was gone, picking up groceries, Dean had to say something, had to do something. He sat on the edge of his bed, watching Cas read a large collection of Shakespeare. 

"I promised we would leave here." he murmured. Cas didn't look up but he closed the book, "We would go on vacation, just you and me, maybe Sam. We would go and we would eat pancakes and we would have fun and just go somewhere. What happened?"

"You said you would make it my home." Cas was so quiet that Dean wasn't sure he had heard him. What was more amazing was that he had heard him among all of that screaming. That meant he'd heard Dean's confession as well. "I'm sorry."

Dean turned, looking Cas over. The angel's eyes were red, his mouth parted, so much fear in his face that it looked like he was in a brothel once more. But he was looking at Dean at least.

"Why? Why are you sorry?"

"I'm sorry I can't go with you on this vacation of yours. I'm sorry you can't make it my home. I'm sorry I can't do anything about your love."

Dean swallowed. So it was one sided then. Cas didn't love him back. He could feel the heat in his cheeks, the sting in his eyes, but he kept them in. It was bad enough that he had a crush on a guy, he didn't want to cry over as well. he couldn't take another hit to his masculinity. 

"Dean..."

Dean turned to him, reaching out. He didn't know why, didn't know what he could do with those fingers, all he knew was that he had to get rid of that look on Cas's face. He had to remove that fear. 

But it got worse. Cas shied away from him, wincing. Dean dropped his hand. Cas looked like he was expecting a punch. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, his fingers distressing the comforter.

"I remember what you did to me, Dean." Cas's voice was raw, sobs seconds away. But angel's don't cry. "I remember everything. Why... I know I did horrible things, but... how could you do that to me?"

"Cas." Dean breathed, leaning across the bed, trying to get closer to the angel, who just curled in on himself tighter, afraid of Dean's touch. "I had no choice. I had to use the sigil, I had to keep Naomi from controlling you."

"I know that." Cas sounded pained, still couldn't look at him, "But after..."

"After?"

"Have you forgotten?"

"Show me what you remember." Dean knew that his mind played tricks on him, that Cas's mind could too. He had learned that from Purgatory. 

"I don't... I don't want to."

"Cas. After I carved that sigil all I did was try to make you more comfortable try to remove your pain. I had to stab you when you were coming after Sam, and I'm sorry. So if you remember it differently, I have to know."

Cas hesitated, bit at his chapped lip until beads of blood appeared, but he did eventually reach out, did touch Dean's forehead. 

It was hot, it was blistering, it was pain and anguish and misery and plea after plea after plea for death. Death would be a mercy. it was rust and blood and razors and barb'd wire and gore and twisting organs.

It was Hell. 

Hell was in Cas's head, that where he was the whole time that the sigil had been carved into his head, this tearing ripping sensation of Naomi's hold and Dean's binding. But it was really Hell, Cas was on the rack and Dean... Dean was the torturer. 

When Cas pulled away, trembling, Dean was a sobbing mess. He hadn't cried like this in years, not since Sam had jumped into the cage. There were tears and mucous pouring down him, he couldn't breathe, it was all he could do to keep from rocking in his sorrow. 

"I didn't..." he finally choked out, "I didn't."

He grabbed Cas's arm, making the angel call out in his terror, and put his hand back on his head. "Look." he begged, "Look. See it from my side, please."

Cas closed his eyes and looked and saw. His body relaxed a bit as he took his hand away.

"That wasn't real." he breathed. 

"Naomi's failsafe?" Dean offered.

"It must have been." Cas agreed. 

Cas still wouldn't let Dean touch him, but he was more talkative, would at least look at him. That was good, that was a start. They had started planning out their vacation when Sam came home.


End file.
